


a most profitable partnership

by blindbatalex



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Jamie is heartbroken, M/M, and Phil has to go fix things as usual, hehehe regency carraville, i may or may not write more for this au, i tried to be a little more formal in my language but like its me we are talking abt sorry, mentioned in passing - Freeform, paul scholes - Freeform, phil is such a good brother and deserves better, warning for blink and you miss it internalized homophobia, wherein Gary tries to articulate his feelings via a love letter and utterly fails
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-12-09 01:18:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11658609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blindbatalex/pseuds/blindbatalex
Summary: James and the Nevilles are Victorian gentlemen, very dashing, and very repressed, especially on Gary's part.





	a most profitable partnership

“I understand Gary wrote to you?” Philip said from his seat by the fire across James. The question mark at the end of the sentence hung heavy in the air, demanding an answer. James felt something akin to broken glass rub against his chest at the mention of Gary’s name. 

James was a practical man, a man of action. When he was brought down he took a moment to recover, thought of the most logical next step and then pulled himself up. Wounds in his experience healed or at least scabbed over the fastest when one’s mind and body was employed. He wouldn’t be where he was otherwise; he would have given up and thrown his towel in a long time ago.

Now though he made no effort to suppress his melancholy. Maybe it was the brandy they have been drinking, or the quiet warmth of the fire against the rain pounding on the windows. Or maybe it was finally having the company of a fellow soul, a friend who felt for him (why did Steven have to travel to America?) but tonight for once James let himself feel the heartache that had swirled around him like a powerful current ever since last week. 

It was rejection and it was desperate hope that came crashing against reality; the confirmation of a truth he already knew; the knowledge that he was and would always be broken, doomed to a life of solitude, of falling for the wrong sex time and time again.

“Yes.” The sound was too harsh leaving his lips. “He wishes to be business partners.”

Philip drew in a sharp breath. “Business partners?” he repeated, surprise etched into his features.

Perhaps James was wrong. Perhaps Gary hadn’t discussed the matter with his brother like James thought he would. 

He got up to fetch the letter from the drawer of his desk, where he’d stashed it away after reading each sentence time and time again, looking for a meaning he knew was not there. Now a confirmation from Philip and the truth would be sealed. James would wake up in the morning, pull himself up and carry on, as he always did.

He sipped more of his brandy as his eyes tracked each minute expressions that passed across the Mancunian’s face. As he read, Philip’s brow furrowed, he pursed his lips and at the end let out an audible huff, clearly displeased, almost angry if James was not misreading him. 

“He sent you this?” Philip asked, refusing to believe what was evident in plain sight before his eyes. James had done the same the first time he read the letter. James smiled at his friend despite his heavy heart, at Philip’s righteous outrage on his behalf. 

Philip was a good man.

“I was in the wrong in the first place to assume --I was too forward.” he admitted to words scratching against his throat in their honesty as he spoke them. “He has a right to -- to desire to put distance between us. Neither of us can blame Gary for that Philip.”

Steven would be proud at James’ honesty, even now, or maybe he would laugh at the irony of how James was the one consoling Philip over his own broken heart.

Philip who ran a hand over his face and said, now looking visibly alarmed, “No. No you do not understand.”

“It’s alright--” James started, eager to change the subject. Of course it wasn’t alright; it was farthest from alright as humanly possible but there was a line, a border across which one needed to face one’s demons on his own. 

Philip didn’t let him finish.

“Oh God.” he said, “He told me he was writing a letter but I never imagined -- the week you must have been through. By God. The utter idiot.”

James wanted Philip to stop; he needed Philip to stop and stop now. He had accepted his fate and Philip’s reaction was bordering on ridiculous. It was also reminding James precisely why he never let his guard down before anyone but Steven, and it was certainly a mistake to do it with either of the Neville brothers, as one had a heart as cold as ice and the other quite possibly was insane.

“Perhaps you should leave.” James said. The last thing he needed was pity.

“You don’t understand,” Philip said again, agitated and as if he was talking to a five year old child.

“What Philip, what do I not understand?” James was shouting now, too impatient and hurt to care for decorum.

“He loves you!”

Philip stopped as soon as he uttered the words and they regarded each other in utter silence for a moment. James felt his blood turn to ice in his veins. His mouth hung open, not unlike a fish, as he tried to process what he heard. Hope, that nasty, persistent germ was already attempting to raise its head in his chest.

“Sit.” Philip continued, now a bit calmer, but his tone was not taking no as an answer. “Sit and I will translate.” 

James did as he was told. 

_He loves you._

**‘Mr. Carragher,’** Philip read, **‘How is the weather in Liverpool? We have had a few days of unrelenting rain and our spirits like the grey skies above are in much need of improvement. I hope you are faring better.’”**

A stock entrance James had thought that was just polite enough to pass. 

Philip gave him a look. 

“He means, I’ve been pacing around the house and pining after you like a young maiden in the throes of first love. I would apologize for being a colossal idiot and panicking but I know not how, and as such I will grit my teeth and wring my hands at home instead, leaving you to your misery.” 

“He--” James started but trailed off, unsure of the question he wanted to raise, still afraid of its answer. Apologize. Pining. _Love._

“Yes,” Philip said with an angry sigh, “He has stopped eating even James. Up at all sorts of odd hours. Scholes even caught him staring blankly into the fire on at least three separate occasions.”

James simply nodded. Something stirred in his chest, tugged at the corners of his mouth at the image of Gary staring forlornly into the fire, because of James, _for James_. Concern and something holding infinite joy if James only let it.

**‘I am writing to you to express how highly I value our partnership. Even while I have had good reason to loathe your company at first (you my dear sir, are far too argumentative and single-minded) I am taken aback at how profitable our friendship has become over the years.’**

This. This was the paragraph that took the ground from below James’ feet in its venom, in its utter lack of empathy. The passage that said I have been by your side -- all our late nights, the rapid fire exchanges, all the times I sook out your company, because it’s been good for business. You are a fool to read into it. To assume.

Philip’s scoffing brought James back into the present. 

“Do you know,” he said, “how much he has worked on this letter once he decided he dared not confront you in person. _Profitable._ The floor of our study was covered in discarded drafts! I fear to imagine what monstrosities those contained if this made the final cut.”

James smiled, Philip’s outrage now like music to his ears. He had been so wrong, so very wrong.

**‘It would be an untruth to claim I would stand in ruin but for you, however making your acquaintance has brought me more happiness than I thought possible.’**

An empty line, James had thought. Surely it couldn’t mean what it purported to mean when one considered the sentence that preceded it.

“This, James is probably as close as you will get to a declaration of love from my idiot of a brother.” Philip said with a shake of his head, confirmed what James already knew at this point. “I would run in the opposite direction if I were you. He told me, he did, that at each word he felt as if he was tearing a sliver of his heart and committing it to paper through ink that could have just as well been his blood. His words not mine. And all of it to say he would be fine without you.”

James was starting to get angry again too, at what Gary put him through because he had to go and clutter the letter’s truth with words that dared not speak. When all he needed to do was to write this one line and James would have known. 

Or at the very least he could have let the more sensible Neville proofread before mailing it over and nearly killing James in the process.

“You are not going to run however will you?” Philip asked, exasperated. “Look at that sheepish smile. You are in just as deep. Scholes was right. We are all doomed.”

He finished the letter in a huff.

‘I sincerely hope it does so in the future as well. Let us meet at your earliest convenience to discuss the ways to expand the nature of our partnership.’

“I will leave it to your imagination to guess what ‘expanding the nature of our partnership involves.” he said before he downed all of his remaining brandy at once. The tumbler made a loud clang against the side table when Philip put it down with considerable force.

James grinned at him. In the morning he would ride with Philip to Manchester and shout at Gary until he saw sense.

Then, he would make sure that there were no servants around and he would press Gary against the wall and kiss him, for as long as he could. 

The utter idiot.

(His utter idiot.)

**Author's Note:**

> ~~ thank you for reading! kudos and especially comments are always appreciated. ~~ 
> 
> find me on [tumblr](https://blindbatalex.tumblr.com/) crying over carraville 24/7.


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